


Royal Hiss

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Noctis has always heard royal omegas are a little different to the common strain but he's never been keen to explore that part of himself. When he runs out of hormone blockers on the road trip the boys have to come up with a solution. Seems no one's quite prepared for Noctis' instincts.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 34
Kudos: 384





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is 2 chapters. First chapter is where all the smut lives. Second chapter is pure angst and fluff and dramatic feelings. If you just want sexy times; chapter 1. If you want the whole emotional arc stuff; chapter 2.

Royal alphas can supposedly intimidate behemoths. Royal omegas meanwhile have legendarily overwhelming pheromones. During their heats they can create a fog which distracts the entire citadel. Whole harems of alphas submit to their enduring magic laden stamina. A royal Lucian omega is hardly an omega at all, at least in the traditional sense, more siren than slut, capable of driving seasoned warriors mad.

Noctis is placed on a special cocktail of blockers when he’s sixteen. They’re strong drugs. Specially formulated to keep royal heats at bay. In case of an emergency which may waylay the convoy Noctis is given four months worth before commencing his journey to Altissa.

Then Insomnia falls.

Noctis tries not to worry the others but he knows Ignis is painfully aware of the situation. Three months into their journey Ignis clears his throat around the campfire.

“We need to discuss something pertinent,” Ignis announces.

Everyone listens when Ignis talks. Ignis very rarely bothers saying anything unless it’s important. He is an alpha composed of carefully selected words.

“Noctis, you’re going to run out of blockers. Soon.”

Noctis shifts uncomfortably in his seat, slouching under the inspection.

“We need a plan.” Ignis continues. “Unfortunately, our options aren’t promising.”

“Any chance we can get our hands on the royal cocktail?” Gladio hums thoughtfully, weighing the depths of exactly how fucked they are.

“Even if a civilian doctor knew what to prescribe it would be very hard to explain why we need it without compromising our cover.” Ignis sighs.

“How effective are generic blockers going to be?” Gladio asks.

“I can’t say for sure,” Ignis admits. “With some of the royal cocktail lingering in Noctis system we might buy ourselves another month but we can’t count on that.”

“How much gil we got?” Gladio frowns, straining for a possible solution. “Any way we can pay off some professionals to ride out the heat?”

Ignis coughs, straightening his glasses, but he barely gets a chance to open his mouth before Noctis flips from bashful to irate.

“I am _not_ sleeping with prostitutes.” He booms across the campfire. Noctis might try to be laid back but he is proud. He has two millennia of royal blood backing him up. He knows they’re in no position to be picky, given circumstances, but the immediate feeling of disgust is impossible to block out.

“Our options are limited,” Gladio replies gruffly. Gladio doesn’t retaliate like he might if another omega snapped at him but the rankling is evident even as he tries to school his expression. Noctis is not an omega a single alpha can control but the instinct to try is hard to ignore.

“I’m not sure how…” Ignis runs his tongue over his teeth as he searches for the right words. “Noctis, one prospect, is to have us service your heat. I’m not sure how you’d feel about that in any circumstance but if you don’t want to visit service professionals we might have to seriously consider it.”

“I can keep guard…?” Prompto offers sheepishly.

Noctis frowns, picking at his nail beds with his fingers anxiously. Ignis and Gladio are attractive alphas. If Noctis were starting a royal harem they’d be high on his list of considerations. That said the strength of his heats, experiencing that, has always been something he’s avoided. Frankly the prospect of losing control so thoroughly frightens him. Noctis has very seriously considered spending his whole life on blockers. That’s not an option right now but still….

“I…” Noctis huffs, trying to gather his senses. “I trust you and Gladio. I trust Prompto. I don’t want to order you to do something like that though…”

“I can’t speak for Gladio,” Ignis glances pointedly, “but there isn’t anything on this green earth I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. If you need me for this… I would not resent you for it.”

Noctis purses his lips, eyes shifting to Gladio across the fire.

“I’m your Shield. I’m not going to back down if you need me for something.” Gladio sighs tensely.

“But what if it changes things?” Noctis rasps.

“I think it’ll be okay,” Prompto whispers, reaching out far enough to touch Noctis’ elbow tentatively. “For what it’s worth. I’m no alpha but… I’ll do whatever you need too. We all just want to help. It’s not like you decided to do this Noct, it’s just shitty luck.”

“We deal with the worst when it happens then,” Noctis sighs, laying his hand over Prompto’s fingers and squeezing tightly. “But I want generic blockers to stave that off as long as possible. I want more time.”

* * *

Noctis runs out of his blockers the next month. He and Prompto buy some generics, the brand Prompto uses to stave off his own heats, but Noctis knows immediately they’re not doing shit. His body is burning through the remaining chemicals lingering in his system and sooner rather than later the dam is going to burst.

Noctis is terrified he’s going to make a fool of himself in front of his friends. He’s terrified Gladio’s going to think he’s weak. He’s terrified they’re going to start treating him differently and, worst of all, Noctis isn’t sure at all what he’s supposed to do when the heat hits. He’s tried to keep his instincts on the backburner since he hit puberty. He’s not sure how strong they are without any resistance. Will he just know what to do? He knows how it works, anatomically, but the history books always make royal omegas look like horror shows. He knows he’s not like Prompto, not like a typical omega, but he doesn’t know what that means in practice.

Prompto is so beautiful and he’s so fragile. Prompto’s got the aim of a hawk and a dangerous willingness to pull the trigger but if you got Prompto in close quarters you could snap him like a twig. Noctis is not as strong or as broad as an alpha by any means but there’s a wiriness to him and a resilience. Noctis has magic too. Magic that reacts to how his physical condition and can cause literal disasters. He once sneezed on a bus in Insomnia and caused blizzard to fucking blow the tires. He was younger then, his control wasn’t as strong, but what’s he going to be like in heat?

Noctis lasts two weeks on generics before he feels it bubbling like lava under his skin. He’s aware of everything. Gladio’s scent, Ignis’ posture, Prompto’s glances…

He pulls Prompto against him in the tent one morning while Gladio and Ignis are making their morning coffees and starting on breakfast. Noctis can smell the ebony from twenty he feet. Prompto snuggles against him, totally unthreatened, and hoops an arm around Noctis’ waist fingers trailing up between his shoulder blades.

“You okay buddy?” He yawns into Noctis’ clavicle.

“Prom,” Noctis takes a deep breath, “what does it feel like when you’re turned on around an alpha? What’s that like?”

Prompto doesn’t ask any stupid questions. Prompto’s brilliant like that. He just hums, considering his answer, blunt nails drawing circles into Noctis’ back through his shirt.

“I just get all trembly. I wanna bare my neck, bend over. I wanna get thrown over someone’s shoulder. I just want to surrender.”

“Right…” Noctis swallows.

“Is that how it is for you?”

“I don’t think so,” Noctis admits to himself as much as Prompto, “but I’m not honestly sure.”

“Royal omegas are different,” Prompto shrugs matter-of-factly. 

“It’s kind of scary,” Noctis admits.

“I’m sure you’ll be amazing, whatever happens,” Prompto promises, nuzzling close. “Your scent’s starting to change. Have you noticed?”

“Yeah,” Noctis laughs dryly. “It’s weird. I don’t smell like you.”

“You don’t smell like an alpha either,” Prompto remarks. “I like it. I think you smell yummy.”

Noctis buries his face in Prompto’s hair. Prompto smells sweet, like wet earth, a kind of thick fertile smell. Noctis… Noctis is starting to smell different. It’s hard to pin down the exact scent but its coppery and pungent. It cuts though everything and Noctis finds he’s scenting things as much as wafting the aroma himself. Can omegas lay a scent? Noctis has never heard of it before.

They pack up camp and head to a hunt near Wiz’s Chocobo Farm. It’s hot today. Ignis keeps the top down in the regalia and Gladio is trying to read his latest dingy romance novel but he keeps shifting awkwardly in his seat. Noctis gets the hint when Ignis turns off the radio and makes some excuse to Prompto about a headache. His scent is getting thicker; _distracting_.

The hunt is rough, short but brutal. Noctis is sweaty and hot when they finish and stow their weapons in the armiger. Noctis puts it down to exertion, his heart racing, but even after they’ve collected the money from Wiz the feeling hasn’t dissipated. Noctis sits down to lunch, chocobos squawking in their stalls across the grass, and finds he’s still sheened with sweat. His cheeks feel hot, feverish almost.

He’s going into heat.

Noctis downs his soda in three gulps and turns on lunch.

“Noctis—” Ignis begins, smooth and level.

“Eat.” Noctis orders. “I think we’re going to need it.”

Ignis nods but neither he nor Gladio can seem to focus. Even Prompto looks a little glassy across the table. Noctis meanwhile is ravenous, cleans his plate, licks the sauce off the cardboard much to Gladio’s dismay. Honestly the sound that escapes Gladio makes it seem like Noctis put his tongue on barbed wire.

“We should go,” Ignis coughs, pushing his glasses further up his nose. He does that when he’s uncomfortable.

Noctis knows people are starting to stare. The scent is all consuming.

“Do we have supplies?”

“Yes,” Ignis promises. “Ingredients and potions.”

“Okay,” Noctis relents, standing up from the plastic chair and watching the other three lurch to follow him all scatterbrained.

“Hotel or haven?” Ignis supposes as they unlock the regalia on the side of the highway.

“Haven.” Noctis decides. He wants to be able to hear crickets when he falls asleep. He wants to hear rain on the tent. He wants his scent to dissipate in the vast unknown of the wilderness. The Oracle’s magic will keep them safe from demons and passing hunters are a more isolated problem than a hotel full of staff and a city full of people.

Gladio pulls open the back door and Noctis stops him without thinking.

“Front seat,” Noctis orders, “Prompto get in the back.”

“Yes Highness,” both Prompto and Gladio chorus. They both sound confused, stumbling to comply, but neither hesitates to do so.

Noctis doesn’t bother with seat belts. He can feel this itching under his very skin and these oily, thick, urges are bubbling just below his focus. His instincts seem totally bizarre and his pack are plainly confused why Noctis isn’t hanging off an alpha right now but Noctis wants nothing more than to grab Prompto and dig his nails in.

Noctis gets his calloused fingers on Prompto and hauls the blonde omega against his side. Prompto fumbles, arms trying to settle around Noctis without getting in the way of whatever the Prince wants, and Noctis crushes the blonde against himself.

“_Drive_,” Noctis commands, startling Ignis.

Ignis lurches, eyes shifting from the rearview mirror, and pulls the regalia out of park.

This wasn’t part of the agreement exactly. Noctis is aware of that but he’s too consumed with the pulsating in his blood to think about it. Instinct tells him to grab Prompto. Prompto said he’d do whatever Noctis needed and right now Noctis needs this. Whatever this is.

Noctis inhales Prompto’s scent. It’s fringed with the mildest, most hesitant, edge of desire and satisfied with that Noctis yanks Prompto’s head back by his thick blonde hair. Prompto makes a noise. Its confused. Prompto’s instincts recognize Noctis as a fellow omega after all and Prompto isn’t built to just naturally roll over to another omega but it’s not a challenging sound and it’s not a distressed sound. Noctis isn’t sure why he’s doing what he’s doing but he knows he has to do it. He won’t be stopped. Prompto, he feels with this startling clarity, is part of his pack and Prompto is the smallest. So Prompto gets this first.

_‘This’_ seems to be Noctis burying his face in Prompto’s neck. Noctis doesn’t realize what he’s doing, butting his face under Prompto’s jaw, until Prompto turns to jelly in his arms.

“_Holy shit._” Gladio rasps in the front seat.

“What?” Ignis sounds genuinely concerned.

“I think he’s—” Gladio fumbles. “Can an omega scent another omega?”

“I—” Ignis chokes. “I don’t—Surely not?”

“Well he’s fucking doing it.”

Noctis hears them, clicks with realization, but doesn’t stop. Gladio and Ignis are shocked, they’re all shocked, but the alphas are also borderline interested judging by their breathless tones.

Noctis plies his scent against Prompto, burying the blonde in it. Prompto transforms, shifting from limp to trembling, and Noctis drags his nails down the blonde’s back. Noctis kisses the most delicate parts of his jugular perfectly sweet but perfectly capable of biting down. Prompto’s fingers flex in his shirt, hopelessly searching for purchase, and Noctis sucks on the scent gland at the junction of Prompto’s jaw. Prompto makes another noise, half a wail, piteously overwhelmed.

“_Fuck._” Gladio wheezes in the front seat.

The car lurches to a stop.

“Noct, darling, we’re here.” Ignis announces, somewhere between terrified and aroused.

“Set up camp.” Noctis orders, still sucking at Prompto’s neck.

“Darling, sweetheart,” Ignis fumbles. “We shouldn’t leave you two. It’s not—”

“Be quick then.” Noctis drawls.

Ignis and Gladio exchange a glance laden with a myriad of emotions but must decide against arguing because within second they’re scrambling out of the car and opening the trunk. Noctis can hear Gladio swearing to himself soft and consistent.

“No-Noct—” Prompto whimpers.

“Shh,” Noctis croons, tugging up Prompto’s shirt while he scrapes his skin with his teeth. Dark blue hickeys are blooming across Prompto’s neck and Noctis shifts to the other side not anywhere near done. Noctis isn’t sure why he wants this but he wants it and while Prompto’s instincts might be scrambled the blonde omega is getting tangibly hotter under Noctis’ fingers.

Noctis drags his nails over Prompto’s navel, forcing his hand between their pressed bodies, before skirting back around and grabbing himself a tight handful of pert ass. Prompto is starting to squirm, indecision giving way to full arousal, and his scent is shifting with him. Noctis can smell he’s getting slick. It’s wonderful. Noctis did that. Noctis is fucking proud of himself.

The door to the backseat opens cautiously.

“Noct,” Ignis whispers, “tent’s all set up. Do you want to move? You’ll be more comfortable in the tent, darling.”

Noctis hesitates, just for a second, chewing thoughtfully on Prompto’s shuddering shoulder.

“Okay,” he takes a deep breath, turning towards the fresh air of the car exterior to clear his head a little.

Prompto whimpers, utterly distraught.

“Come here, sweethearts,” Ignis urges gently, trying to coax them both out of the car.

“Where’s Gladio?” Noctis blinks, trying to focus long enough to spot his Shield.

“Here,” Gladio lurches forward compliantly, scent already thick with musk.

“Carry Prompto.” Noctis orders. “Put him in the tent for me.”

“Put—?”

But Noctis isn’t done.

“Take his clothes off.”

Prompto moans desperately, hiccuping.

“Touch him and I’ll kill you,” Noctis growls, eyes flashing over possibly the biggest alpha he knows. The alpha who, under Noctis’ eyes, wavers and nods stupidly.

“Of course, Noct, whatever you want,” Gladio manages brokenly.

Noctis leans back, let’s Gladio’s big hands slip into the backseat and get a solid enough grip on Prompto to pull him out of the regalia. Gladio hefts Prompto up into his arms, cradling him, and Prompto is panting and noticeably wet. Gladio’s breath is coming short and tight. He’s restraining himself. Noctis scent is doing things to all of them.

“Highness…?” Ignis slips back into view, offering his hands. “Do you need a hand?”

“Help me to the tent?” Noctis supposes, a little foggy.

“Yes, of course,” Ignis promises, helping Noctis out of the car. Noctis slumps into his chest, wrapping both arms around him, inhaling Ignis’ own mounting arousal and noting how it spikes at his proximity. Ignis manages to lock the car with the beeper and stroking down the line of Noctis’ spine gives him a moment to refocus.

“Okay….” Noctis breaths thickly. “Okay…”

Noctis, arm around Ignis, starts to stumble up to the tent. Ignis holds him tightly, keeping him steady on his feet, and when they come to a stop outside the tent Noctis gathers his senses. He can smell Prompto’s slick under his overpowering aroma. Prompto is whimpering, letting Gladio strip him curtly, sprawled on the camping mattress all wanton and lost.

“Help me?” Noctis tugs on Ignis’ shirt through the fog.

“Anything.” Ignis manages, hand wrapping around Noctis’ fingers in his shirt.

“I want to get undressed,” Noctis explains.

Ignis makes a noise and Noctis only half realizes it’s a growl. He’s never heard Ignis growl before. Ignis nuzzles his forehead, holding him close, but begins to peel Noctis’ glove off his hand. Jacket and tank top go next followed by Ignis kneeling to unbuckle Noctis’ pants. Noctis grips Ignis’ shoulders letting his advisor ease him out of his too sweaty clothes. When he’s naked on the stone, barely standing, Ignis wraps both arms around his waist and nuzzles his navel thick with his own desire.

“I want Prompto.” Noctis states.

“But Prompto can’t—”

Can’t knot him.

Noctis knows this but right now it doesn’t seem to matter. He’s thick with heat but his priorities are all wrong. He doesn’t care about getting knotted yet. He wants to finish with Prompto first. Then he’ll take knot all night.

“Prompto,” he repeats.

“Yes Highness,” Ignis strains.

Gladio eases out of the tent, catching sight of Noctis pale and naked with Ignis on his knees, and swears to himself yet again. Noctis pushes Ignis back curtly and grabbing Gladio’s collar finds the strength to drag the muscled alpha up and shove him towards the enchanted fire of the haven.

“Sit. Guard.” Noctis orders them.

Ignis and Gladio are hot with instinct. Noctis can smell their musk. They’re painfully aroused and there are two wet omegas lurking in the tent they’ve just been barred from. Noctis knows they shouldn’t listen to him. The urge to get their dicks wet should be so dire they can’t listen to him but it’s like they’re under a spell. They both fall back, somehow restrained, and wait.

Noctis, satisfied, slips into the tent and crawls over Prompto.

Prompto grasps him and pulls him close.

“_Oh Noct_…” He moans.

Noctis nuzzles his clavicle, tugging his legs apart and settling between them. Prompto’s fingers drag through his hair, Prompto’s aching cock slides against his, and Noctis knows Prompto’s wet long before he sinks two fingers into the blonde omega.

“Noct, Noct,” Prompto arches, “_oh fuck_, fuck me? Please, _please_, fuck me.”

“Can’t knot you,” Noctis remarks, half to himself.

“I don’t care,” Prompto whimpers, a scrambled mess. “I don’t care, I just want you._ Please._”

“Good boy,” Noctis sits back, hands sliding down Prompto’s thighs to spread them further. “You ever…?”

“Never,” Prompto moans. “You?”

“Never,” Noctis admits, fingers sinking back into Prompto, stretching him open in short thrusts. “I’ll get you knotted later.” He finds himself promising. “But I want you first.”

Noctis is starting to get a feel for what’s happening to him. He’s not an alpha but this is his pack and he’s pack leader. He will scent and fuck and mark every single member of his pack. For alphas that might mean one thing but for omegas like Prompto that means fucking them. Noctis has heard about pack leaders. Packs have multiple omegas and alphas but one, almost always, alpha pack leader to take charge. Looks like, with royal blood, Noctis is a pack leader whether or not anyone likes it.

Prompto is slick and spread around his fingers. Noctis forces four inside him before he’s satisfied that Prompto can be stuffed with cock. Prompto mewls, squirming under him, and Noctis takes the chance to nip at his pebbled nipples.

“Noct, please…”

Noctis takes the hint, drawing his fingers up and rubbing the slick across the blunt head of his hard cock. Prompto won’t need much. He’s so soaked he’ll take Noctis without hesitation. The sound Prompto makes as Noctis starts to sink into him is absolutely wretched with need. Noctis holds his thighs open, cock filling him up, and starts to purr low in his throat. Prompto feels so amazingly good. He’s so hot inside. Prompto gasps, sounds dragging out into deep guttural moans, and then Noctis is fully sheathed in the blonde.

Noctis rubs his hips, listens. Under the sound of Prompto panting and whimpering he’s sure he can hear that soft cursing from Gladio. Noctis snorts. The alphas are close by, ready for when Noctis calls on them, and they’re likely able to make out every single moan. It must be driving them insane.

Noctis rolls his hips, watching how Prompto arches up to meet him. He thrusts, hips jerky and unpracticed, just chasing the marvelous way Prompto clenches wetly around his cock. Prompto’s moans are soft but consistent, heady, and he rocks his hips up into every motion of Noctis’ cock.

Noctis folds over him, fisting his hair, kissing him deep. Prompto’s arms wrap around him, blunt nails dragging up his back, and they move together perfectly. Noctis thrusts a little deeper just to feel the full intensity of Prompto’s body squirming and stretched around him. Prompto moans into his cheek, the two of them so close, and Noctis starts nipping the blonde’s earlobe.

“Mine,” he grunts.

“_Yours_,” Prompto warbles without even thinking about it.

“You want me to fill you up?” Noctis hisses deep in his throat. “You want to be full?”

“Fuck yes,” Prompto trembles. “Fuck, I’m so—Noct—”

“Cum,” Noctis urges, “wanna feel you spasm around me.”

Prompto breaks into a wail, bucking under him, and Noctis holds him tight. Noctis thrusts in to the hilt, pushing hard one last time, and feels Prompto’s spasming muscles wrench his orgasm out of him. Noctis holds him, hips twitching, flooding his best friend with cum. He moans, Prompto moans, and they come down from the peak dragging every single second out as long as possible.

When Noctis sits back, slipping out of Prompto’s wet hole, the blonde paws at his face weakly.

“Should…?” Prompto struggles to find his breath. “Should I go keep guard while…?”

“No baby,” Noctis rubs his fingers against the myriad of hickeys littering both sides of Prompto’s neck. “Stay here and curl up. You can watch. I want you close.”

“You won’t get…?” Prompto fumbles again. “Some omegas get jealous if they think they have to share…?”

“I’m not sharing.” Noctis snorts. “I own all of you.”

Prompto moans, full body shivering, and nods. “Right,” he relents. “That’s right.”

Noctis pulls a blanket over Prompto, arranging him in one corner of the tent which is very quickly turning into Noctis’ nest. Satisfied Prompto is tucked away Noctis ruminates on the feeling in his gut. He came hard. Prompto felt amazing. But Noctis wants to be fucked. He wants to be knotted. He wants to be taken. He can feel the ache building towards another crest.

Noctis shuffles onto his hands and knees and sticks his head out of the tent.

“Iggy? Gladio?”

They lurch to attention in the folding chairs eyes sharp and wild.

“Yes Highness?” Ignis manages because frankly Gladio doesn’t seem capable of words right now. “Who would you like first?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Noctis huffs, “both of you get in here. Now.”

Gladio makes a wretched, guttural, sound but does not have the focus to argue. Noctis’ scent is overwhelming, total siren call, driving them both insane with want. Ignis stands but his motions are jerky. Noctis watches them both strip at the entrance to the tent. Alphas don’t usually share well but the intensity of the royal fog is making them both brain dead, dulling their more combative instincts.

Ignis is lean but firm. Noctis watches him slide off his pants and wheeze softly, hard cock hitting the early evening air. Ignis is a handsome, handsome, man. Gladio is all well proportioned muscle, totally ripped, cock an angry red. Noctis leans out of the way so Ignis can toss their clothes into another corner of the tent and then leaning forward Noctis fishes both their hands out of the air and tugs them forward. They come without any resistance, filling the tent and arranging themselves on either side of Noctis. The three of them are completely bare and Noctis would find this all a bit much if he wasn’t so bone deep in his instincts.

Ignis and Gladio pause for a moment. There’s a little confusion evident between them about if they’re allowed to touch and who should go first but Noctis has no intention of letting them make such important decisions.

Noctis grabs Gladio’s hair and tugs him closer. Gladio hisses, their bodies rubbing along each other, and Noctis buries his face in the Shield’s neck. Gladio stiffens, he’s such a big alpha, he won’t have been scented by anyone since he was a pup. Still he shudders and groans as Noctis marks him with scent.

“This is fucking weird,” Gladio manages brokenly.

“I think its best just to let him do what he wants right now,” Ignis murmurs over Noctis, “besides, he smells good.”

“So fucking good,” Gladio agrees, wrapping one thick arm around Noctis encouragingly as Ignis strokes between his shoulder blades.

Satisfied Gladio reeks of him Noctis pushes him away gently and starts to flip in between the alphas. Gladio groans at the loss of contact, so tempted, but Ignis helps him turn over eager for attention of his own.

Noctis presses against Ignis, mouthing Ignis’ neck and lavishing him with scent. Ignis shudders, hand running through Noctis’ hair and quite frankly seems to enjoy the sensation however strange it is to be marked by an omega.

Slumping back in the middle, the tent full of his aroma, Noctis weighs his options with a cursory glance. Ignis, forever brave, kisses his shoulder tentatively waiting to see how much he’s permitted to do. Gladio palms Noctis hip, thumb rubbing into the curve of the bone under the skin, and the grip is firm but Noctis feels more pleading than possessiveness in it.

“Ignis first,” Noctis decides.

Luckily for Gladio, Ignis is far too cultured to rub his victory in the Shield’s face but there is some subtle delight evident in the way Ignis grins.

“Hold Prompto,” Noctis grunts to Gladio over his shoulder as he presses up against Ignis’ shuddering form.

“Noct, that wasn’t part of the deal,” Gladio reminds gently. “I don’t know if Prompto wants—”

“Prompto,” Noctis croons, “you wanna be held baby?”

“Oh…” Prompto moans in his bundle. “Yes, please? Gladio that’d be really nice, if that’s okay….?”

“Fucking—” Gladio sighs, but Noctis senses he’s more concerned about keeping his cock in check than disappointed he has to hold a beautiful blonde omega. “Okay, yeah, sure. Comere Cutie.”

Prompto makes a delighted little sound swooning as he’s pulled up against Gladio’s broad chest. Gladio is visibly trying to keep his hands to himself but with the musk and slick so thick in the tent it’s going to be a struggle not to grope Prompto a little.

Noctis turns back to Ignis. Patient but straining Ignis who is squeezing his hip and takes the twist as invitation to kiss Noctis’ cheekbones. Noctis fists a hand in Ignis’ hair, drawing his mouth down so he can kiss it, Ignis tries to say something, probably something sensible, but Noctis has no tolerance for such things and kisses him anyway. Ignis melts despite his best intentions, gathering Noctis closer than should be possible, their hips grinding against each other all pressure and heat.

Ignis’ hand finds Noctis’ ass, squeezing tight, and Noctis purrs.

“Hands, knees.” Ignis growls into his lips. “It’ll be easier that way.”

“Prep me first,” Noctis instructs, pulling Ignis impossibly closer by his wrist and arching his ass into the grasp of the alpha.

Ignis seems to catch himself, remembering preparation is a thing they have to do.

“Right, of course, forgive me Highness.”

Noctis just kisses him, hiking one leg round Ignis’ hips, granting access to his tight hole. Ignis doesn’t need to be told twice, long fingers slipping further to rub at Noctis’ entrance. Ignis moans, mouth escaping Noctis’ grasp, and Noctis’ nails drag down his back in protest.

“Is--?” Gladio’s voice cuts through the softer sounds.

“He’s so wet,” Ignis moans hungrily. “Fuck…”

“Cause I want you to hurry up,” Noctis nips Ignis’ jaw, curled leg squeezing their groins together.

“Just a second,” Ignis promises, finger sinking into Noctis.

It’s such a strange feeling. Noctis has jerked off plenty of times, he’s felt himself get slick plenty of times, but he’s rarely been tempted to finger himself. Ignis’ hand feels different,_ better_. Noctis lets himself moan as the digit curls inside him, starting to thrust, and just that is nice. He can’t imagine how Ignis’ cock is going to feel.

Ignis adds one finger, then another, and Noctis is starting to feel the stretch. Gladio is growling lowly over his shoulder, Prompto in his arms, and Ignis begins to return the sound. At first its mere acknowledgement but it starts to take on an edge. Alphas don’t share well.

Noctis feels the tension mounting, even distracted by the fingers filling him up, and hisses. The sound is sharp and loud. Gladio and Ignis freeze, instincts quibble, an omega shouldn’t be able to get in the middle of them but there is in Noctis’ hiss a command that goes straight to their cores and, sure enough, they both back down. They’re all a little surprised, Noctis suspects, but in the grand scheme of things it’s for the best. He doesn’t want a brawl in the tent.

“If you’re so impatient,” Noctis glances, voice catching as Ignis spreads him on a fourth finger. “Then give Prompto some attention.”

“Saving my knot for you,” Gladio grumbles, “you’re the one in heat.”

“Yeah, but he’d like a little attention and you should keep your hands busy.” Noctis instructs.

“I… yeah, that’s true…” Gladio relents, pressing a dry kiss to Prompto’s cheekbone. The blonde is butter. He turns into Gladio’s touch, totally willing, and still high on pheromones.

Noctis turns back to Ignis.

“You wanna mount me?”

“More than anything,” Ignis promises.

“Do it then,” Noctis moans.

Ignis shifts helping Noctis get into position on his knees. It’s hardly romantic but Noctis doesn’t care about romantic right now. He just wants to be fucked deep and hard. Ignis runs his hands up the back of Noctis’ sticky thighs, kneading and parting his cheeks, before he leans forward to grasp Noctis’ hips and line himself up. Noctis purrs, he knows omegas can purr but he doesn’t do it often, and the sound distracts him for just a split second before Ignis starts to ease himself in.

Noctis tries to get some purchase, arching back. Ignis pulls his hips closer at the encouragement the blunt head of his cock pushing inside. They both moan, Noctis’ nails curls in the blankets, and Ignis continues in one long thrust bottoming out in his Prince.

Ignis pauses, slumping forward to kiss Noctis’ back.

“Ignis,” Noctis inhales sharply, “I swear to every god if you don’t _move_—"

“I hate to admit it, Highness, but I’m not going to last very long at this rate.” Ignis confesses tightly, rolling his hips just so, just enough to tease them both with how good it feels.

“Then make it good,” Noctis orders. “You’ll last longer second round.”

“_Second round?_” Ignis wheezes.

“Royal stamina,” Gladio mumbles from Prompto’s neck. “Princess can probably go all night. He’ll probably go tomorrow too. We’re in for pain.”

“Sweet Astrals,” Ignis takes a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

Noctis leans forward, easing Ignis’ cock out of him a little before butting his hips back hard and fast. Ignis gasps, Noctis moans, and Prompto giggles at both of them.

“I’d take that as a yes, Iggy.” Prompto laughs, sound turning into a yelp as Gladio flips him onto his back and starts mouthing down his chest. Noctis would be defensive but Gladio’s going to need an industrial firehose to overpower Noctis’ scent on Prompto. Still, Noctis finds himself feeling petulant.

“Gladio,” he gets the alpha’s attention. “Don’t you want to eat my cum out of Prompto?”

Prompto goes beet red and Gladio stiffens. Not so clever now, either of them, and smirking Noctis waits. Gladio surrenders into a growl, dipping down, hooking Prompto’s legs over his shoulders and—

Prompto wails.

Noctis slams his hips back into Ignis.

“Fuck me,” he hisses.

“Yes Highness,” Ignis moans, hips rocking seemingly of their own accord. Ignis isn’t as big as Gladio at first glance but he’s long and when he pushes all the way in, holding Noctis’ hips against his, it’s almost too deep to be comfortable.

Noctis moans, burying his face in the blankets and sleeping bags. Ignis sets an almost hypnotic rhythm- in, out, in, out- and the audible slap of his balls against Noctis is overwhelming.

“Let me hear you,” Ignis entreats, “I wanna hear every sound. I want to know you like this.”

Noctis gives a guttural noise, pushing back to meet Ignis’ thrust, taking him too deep for just a second. Ignis thrusts come harder, heavier, and Noctis can barely hear Gladio slurping over the sound of his own mewling. Another orgasm is building inside him but its altogether unlike when he blew his load into Prompto. It’s a different type of pleasure, not better or worse; just different. It’s the kind of pleasure that can only come from Ignis stretching him up and stroking his insides.

Noctis’ breath catches as he feels the swell of Ignis’ knot starting to form. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to fit, Noctis is so tight already, but Ignis continues to thrust, spreading him a little further with every motion.

“Yeah, yeah, just like that…” Noctis moans, pressing back.

“Nice and relaxed, almost there,” Ignis coaches, so close. His hands run appreciatively over Noctis’ back, grasp turning sharp with nails, as the knot pops into Noctis and squeezes them together.

Noctis yelps before surrendering into a guttural full body wail. He burrows into the blankets, nails digging holes into them, quaking and cuming hard. Ignis comes undone, swearing and holding his hips, flooding him with hot spurts of cum Noctis can still feel inside him.

Ignis lurches, sagging for a moment, cock twitching and Noctis starts to slump. For a split second Noctis can’t imagine going again. Ignis lays them down with the older man at Noctis’ back, holding him. Noctis takes a deep breath.

“Is that alright?” Ignis checks, kissing the curve of his ear. “It’ll go down in a moment.”

“It’s _perfect_…” Noctis sighs, letting Ignis rub the heel of his palm against his lower stomach where the pressure is the greatest.

Gladio raises his head from between Prompto’s legs, wiping his mouth. The blonde omega is panting and hiccuping, hard again, but Gladio just strokes his thighs and glances over the Prince and Ignis.

“Don’t go forgetting me,” he warns.

“Plenty of time for you,” Noctis assures. “I just need five then you can breed me.”

The sound Gladio makes is downright wicked.

“Prompto’s pretty though, isn’t he?” Noctis sighs.

“Gorgeous,” Gladio admits casually, kissing and sucking a patch of thigh.

“Prompto agreed to help you Noct,” Ignis whispers, still plying the Prince with kisses. “He didn’t agree to play with us.”

“Hmm,” Noctis hums, unconvinced and unperturbed. They’re all his, as far as his instincts are concerned. They’re all his pack. In the depths of his heat his gut tells him that, if the alphas are going to breed him, they need to fatten Prompto up with cock too. It seems only fitting. Likewise some tiny part of Noctis wants to see Gladio and Ignis touch each other, stroke each other, play nice. It doesn’t come naturally to alphas but they’re pack mates, Noctis’ brain insists, and they’re both very handsome. They’d like it if they just complied with his desires.

Noctis considers, in a moment of clarity, that he might be going insane. The heat haze is just so strong that the second he computes that he’s falling back under again into the daze.

Ignis knot is starting to go down and with a little shift, a little twist, the alpha eases out of Noctis but does not release him from his arms. Noctis can feel the cum dribbling out of him down the backs of his thighs. Its heady, warm. He could get used to it.

Regardless Ignis’ pampering touches are starting to itch.

“Noctis is growing restless again,” Ignis remarks, fishing between his legs to feel his returning hardness.

“He'll be the fucking death of me,” Gladio laughs softly.

“Shall we switch?” Ignis offers to share amicably. Ignis is obviously the cuddly sort.

“Please,” Gladio accepts with more civility than he’s demonstrated all night. Seems even alphas can be swayed to play nice in the haze of royal heat.

The alphas shift across the camping mattress. Prompto hooks both arms around Ignis as he lowers himself and hauls the advisor closer to his overheated body. Prompto’s hard again, soaked too no doubt, but he’s going to have to endure a little teasing. Knots are the only thing that are going to make Noctis’ heat dissipate and the alphas will have to save their primal strength for him that being the case. Still Prompto doesn’t seem resentful, just needy. Prompto’s a good boy. Prompto gets it.

Gladio’s arms are hot when they wrap around Noctis but where Noctis is drenched in a thin sheen of sweat Gladio is so dry, clean. Noctis just wants to ruin him. He pulls Gladio down by his hair, not roughly just impatiently, and scents the big alpha again. Noctis’ scent is hard to shift but Gladio’s natural musk is the strongest of his lovers so drenching it out will take some determination. Once more Gladio shivers, instincts frazzled, but complies with the marking. He lets it happen. Noctis thinks he kind of likes it too.

Gladio’s hand cups his face as he kisses him, sword calloused thumb rubbing at his face, blunt nails pushing his hair back. Gladio is so big, just all over, but Noctis likes being pressed under him. He appreciates that broad strength. Makes for healthy pups some dark little niggle inside him insists.

Noctis nips Gladio’s lips, half playful, half rough and Gladio rumbles without threatening. Gladio seems to like a little tension too. Arm around him Noctis fishes a meaty hand off his waist and directs it between his legs. Gladio’s fingers find his wetness, his ache, and growling the alpha tests how Noctis takes two of his fingertips.

“For me?” Gladio rumbles, butting their noses together.

“Ahuh,” Noctis promises, hips canting up.

Gladio sits back, pushing Noctis’ thighs up towards his chest, and rubs the length of his cock over Noctis’ dripping hole.

Noctis likes it, for a moment, but as the moment extends Noctis releases a soft, warning, hiss.

Gladio kisses his kneecap and metaphorically rolls over.

Noctis bites his lip, moan broken and hitched as Gladio starts to push into him. Gladio’s thicker than Ignis, impossibly huge, and Noctis’ body is not seasoned in that sense. It knocks the wind out of him and he struggles with every inch.

“Gentle Gladio,” Ignis warns, genuinely concerned.

“Noct can handle it,” Gladio is convinced. “You got this, don’t you baby?”

“Ahuh,” Noctis nods stupidly, eyes squeezed shut. It feels like too much, like it’ll never fit, but Noctis wants it to so badly. He’s so greedy. He wants this thick, weighty, cock all to himself so he lets Gladio sink another centimeter in.

Gladio isn’t all the way in when he starts to rock his hips, thrusting. Noctis whines but a second later he’s hiccuping as Gladio uses the motion to force another fraction inside. It’s strategy. The thrusts feel good, they help Noctis ease, and every time he relaxes Gladio pushes in another inch until he’s bottoming out inside Noctis with one rough thump. Noctis moans, feeling Gladio’s hips against his groin.

“Fuck yeah,” Gladio rumbles, “fucking perfect. You gonna take my knot too?”

“If you hurt him Gladio—”

“Shut up Iggy,” Noctis snaps breathlessly, trying to rock back into Gladio’s steady thrusts. He’s adjusting, slowly but surely, and the sheer size of it is dizzying. It’s so hot. Noctis loves it. He’s wet, he’s willing, Gladio’s knot shouldn’t break him and, even if it does, they have potions. It’ll be fine.

Prompto takes up distracting Ignis with kisses, desperate hands pawing down his naked body, and Noctis focuses on the pressure and the heat of Gladio. Noctis is sure if Gladio fucked Prompto he’d be able to see the bulge in Prompto’s stomach when Gladio bottomed out. The thought makes him purr.

“Oh Gladio…” Noctis manages. “Six…”

“More?” Gladio tests the waters, grinding against Noctis and emphasizing how deeply seated he is.

“_More._” Noctis demands.

“You’re so wild,” Gladio thrusts, “bet they can smell you for miles. It’s all consuming. I can’t think at all. Just wanna knot you over _and over_—”

“Oh fuck,” Noctis gasps, trying to rock into the rhythm. “Yes, fuck, keep talking.”

Noctis can feel another orgasm building inside him. He has no idea where all this strength is coming from. He should be exhausted but he’s fever hot and he never wants this to stop.

“Driving me absolutely insane,” Gladio murmurs thickly, hips never slowing, knot starting to form. “I’m fucking you and I still want more. I can’t get enough of you. It’s ridiculous. You’re making me cock dumb.”

“Oh…” Noctis arches, feeling the strain of Gladio’s knot starting to push at him. “That’s it, just a little more Gladio, I’m so…”

“I don’t even know how you’re going to fit my knot but I know you will,” Gladio laughs wickedly, breathless as his hips apply a steady pressure. “That’s it Noct, so close—_ Ah fuck!_”

Gladio’s knot slips past the last line of resistance and Noctis throws his head back screaming. Noctis can’t map the feeling. It’s just too much. He’s cuming hard, spasming off the camping mattress, clenching around Gladio like a vice. Gladio’s already long gone, giving one low howl as he pumps his load into Noctis. He seems to cum for longer than Ignis and Noctis lulls back, feeling it fill him, groaning softly.

Gladio maneuvers Noctis carefully into an easier position. He lets his Prince go limp, legs spread around him, while he sits between Noctis’ legs waiting for his knot to go down. Noctis pants, finding Gladio’s hands with his eyes closed and lacing their fingers on his stomach.

“Fuck,” Prompto whimpers, “I’m so hard…”

“I’ll have you next, Prompto,” Noctis promises.

“Dude, aren’t you tired?” Prompto whistles.

“I don’t think I’m going to be tired for a while.”

When Gladio’s knot goes down enough for the alpha to withdraw Ignis crawls back between Noctis’ legs. Noctis glances at him, curious, but as Ignis delicately inspects his abused hole Noctis realizes he’s checking he’s not hurt.

“I’m okay,” Noctis promises.

“Just checking,” Ignis strokes his thigh. “You really should try and get some fluids and sleep, even just a little.”

“Maybe a little,” Noctis relents, lashes already fluttering as Ignis presses a water bottle to his mouth.

* * *

Noctis’ heat lasts almost five days. Prompto says he’s only ever gone three days himself but Ignis supposes that’s to be expected given Noctis’ bloodline. Noctis eats small, occasional, meals and drinks at Gladio’s behest between sessions. He just can’t seem to stop. He wants sex almost every hour. By the end of it they’re all exhausted and Noctis feels like he’s broken a particularly bad fever.

When Noctis finally sleeps through the night things seem to be over for now. Noctis wakes in the morning feeling like he’s made of lead. All his wants is a shower. Every muscle in his body hurts as he lowers himself into the folding chair by the fire.

“Hungry?” Ignis supposes.

“Starving,” Noctis nods.

“I think we could all use a proper meal,” Ignis decides, fishing some ingredients out of the cooler.

“We should talk,” Gladio grumbles around a can of ebony. “That was intense and weird.”

“Yeah,” Noctis admits. “That was crazy.”

“I didn’t think your heat would last that long,” Prompto has looked flushed since they arrived. The full body blush is only now starting to dissipate. “I didn’t think you’d need that much.”

“Sorry,” Noctis mumbles.

“No, dude, don’t apologize. Speaking for myself here but that was incredible.”

“What’s getting me is the scenting.” Gladio wheezes. “I reek of you. We all do. How the fuck does an omega scent alphas?”

“It’s the royal blood, has to be,” Ignis concludes as he turns on the camping stove. “I have to admit it surprised me too but I suppose it makes sense. Royal omegas are a different class. They lead packs, they have harems. They don’t submit to alphas in a traditional sense.”

“That hiss,” Prompto laughs. “I’ve never seen an omega make alphas back down.”

“It came in handy,” Gladio snorts. “Thought I was going to lose my head for a second there and start an actual brawl with Iggy.”

“It certainly keeps things peaceful,” Ignis agrees. “It’ll serve us well if there are any problems next time.”

“Is there going to be a next time…?” Noctis wavers.

“I think we did a good job,” Gladio shrugs. “Are you unsatisfied?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Noctis back tracks immediately. “You guys were exactly what I wanted. You were everything I needed. I just… I feel like I overstepped, like I got too pushy.”

“You were getting some pretty strong instincts there,” Gladio permits, “and it was your first heat. Honestly, it’s probably better you were so clear about what you wanted.”

“But…” Noctis squirms. “Some of the feelings haven’t left. I still…I don’t know. I want you guys. I want a pack. I want you two to fuck Prompto. I—I know that’s not what we agreed to but I can’t shake the feelings.”

“It sounds as if your heat stirred up a lot of emotions.” Ignis replies smoothly. “That’s normal. If you want some kind arrangement outside your heats I don’t think that’s absurd but we need to negotiate it with a level head.”

Noctis nods, fumbling his fingers over each other in his lap.

They seem to be waiting for him to say something but Noctis doesn’t know how to make himself clearer. He doesn’t know how to ask or clarify what he wants. He just…. it felt right and good all smashed up in the tent together. Ignis and Gladio were warm and big and Prompto was sweet and close and it was right. Noctis knows he’s engaged but who’s to say they’re ever going to reclaim Lucius and, even if they do, royal omegas have been forming pack units for centuries. Kings in Nifleheim have lovers and mistresses for fucks’ sake so Noctis is more than entitled to a family grouping of his own making. He’s never quite fathomed it, never planned it this way, but the guys feel so perfect. He can talk to them, be himself, he has history with them and he can spend hours with them and never get sick of them. They’re good lovers, they sate him, honestly isn’t that enough?

And yet Noctis isn’t sure how to say this all out loud.

“Well…” Gladio sighs thoughtfully, “you’ll talk to us, right?”

Noctis gathers up a deep breath but isn’t sure how to exhale it. He looks to Ignis for help.

“I’m sure when Noct is ready we’ll have a long discussion about what exactly we all want in this circumstance. I think, for now, we just plan to service Noct’s next heat. Does that sound agreeable to everyone?”

Noctis, Gladio and Prompto nod with varying degrees of enthusiasm.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut this time. It's literally all angst and fluff. Enjoy!

Noctis hates that he’s sunk back into uncertainty. Over the next few days, between showers and hunts and changes in wardrobe, his scent slowly, slowly, fades off his companions. It’s disgusting. Ignis, Gladio and Prompto all have temptingly wonderful scents but Noctis misses the bone deep satisfaction of having them laved with _his _scent. The car smells like all of them at least, mingled, and Noctis finds himself slouching low in the seat and asking Ignis to put the top up more than once.

Nothing much changes but Noctis is so aware of every word and motion he’s sure he’s going insane. He scowls at every pretty omega who makes chit chat with Gladio, he finds himself leaning into every one of Ignis’ fleeting touches… He’s possessive. He knows that. But he wonders if he’s the only one going insane? Gladio seems to brush those pretty omegas off a lot quicker than he did just a fortnight ago and Noctis is sure Ignis never fretted over him and Prompto this much before.

Prompto, Noctis is sure, is feeling the same aching need he is. Prompto lingers in bed later than ever, stealing long moments cuddled up with Noctis almost every morning. Noctis doesn’t mind in the slightest. He bundles Prompto up against him, nuzzling his hair, feeling their body heat and limbs intermingle satisfyingly.

One morning while they’re sleeping at a caravan Gladio and Ignis get up early. Prompto stays in bed with Noctis, waiting for his prince to stir, and as Noctis wakes slowly they cuddle tight as anything. Prompto rubs his scarred back and Noctis squeezes him, nuzzling his cheek and butting his nose against his jaw.

“Hey…” Prompto whispers.

“Hmm?” Noctis replies quietly.

“Can, um… would you scent me…?”

Noctis purrs, tangling their legs and forcing his face against Prompto’s neck without hesitation. He’s been dying to scent the others for days. He lathers Prompto in his scent, nuzzling Prompto’s glands, and the blonde melts to absolute butter just rubbing himself closer.

“Breakfast!” Ignis hollers curtly outside. “Up you two get!”

Prompto and Noctis ease apart, Prompto nuzzling their noses, and squeezing his wrist Noctis whispers;

“I’ll scent you anytime.”

“Promise?” Prompto warbles softly.

“Promise.”

When they stumble outside Gladio sniffs sharply, eyes trailing Prompto. Noctis isn’t sure what he sees in Gladio’s face in that moment. Is it angry? Sad? Wanton? He can’t be sure. Either way Gladio spreads his legs very wide in the back seat when they get in the Regalia and Noctis refuses to retract his own leg away from where their knees meet.

He feels better when Prompto smells like him, it helps. That said he’s aching for that completion, the wholeness, and in his stupid little head he imagines them all tangled up together like a perfectly functioning pack. Not just prince and retainers, not just friends, but a pack.

That night Noctis has awfully vivid dreams. Ignis, Gladio, Prompto… the three of them a mess of sweaty limbs. Fucking each other, fucking him, kissing him, whispering sweet nothings… Noctis wakes tense and hot and lies there, in the dark hour before dawn, just listening to their breathing in the caravan as he waits for the heat to simmer down.

Behind him Ignis stirs, tightening his arm around Noctis’ waist.

“Are you alright?” Ignis whispers.

“Ahuh,” Noctis grunts, keeping his eyes closed.

“You…” Ignis sniffs him. “You can’t be going back into heat again. It’s too soon.”

“Just a dream,” Noctis confesses, trying to brush the subject away.

Ignis is quiet a moment, pressed against Noctis’ back, arms around him. Ignis’ thumb strokes his hip through his pants and, feeling his other wrist flex, Noctis opens his eyes long enough to spy Ignis stroking the bridge of Prompto’s nose in the dark.

“Back to sleep,” Ignis encourages tenderly.

“Hmm, yeah…” Noctis slumps, trying not to think too hard.

In the morning Prompto stays in bed and Noctis scents him all over and, again, at breakfast Gladio gives Noctis that same subtly sour look.

Noctis mulls over his breakfast.

“Aren’t you hungry, Noctis?” Ignis frets gently.

“I’m okay,” Noctis shrugs.

“Should train with me,” Gladio grunts around a mouthful, “that’ll make you hungry.”

“Ugh, no thanks.”

“Seriously, you’ve got to practice regularly or you’ll get sloppy.”

“We hunt all the time.” Noctis snorts. “I get plenty of combat practice.”

“Hand to hand is different.”

“Sure,” Noctis pushes at his food skeptically.

“Come on,” Gladio stands suddenly.

“Come where?” Noctis startles.

“Come train,” Gladio orders, snatching Noctis’ plate and scrapping both of their scraps into the trash.

Noctis tries to argue, Prompto tries to offer to accompany them, and cutting both the omegas off from their fussing Gladio cocks his head roughly;

“You, with me,” he grunts to Noctis, turning on Prompto to continue; “and you, help Iggy clean up.” 

Prompto and Noctis share a glance. They are omegas, at the core, and there is, despite Noctis’ royal instincts, a fluttering when Gladio takes charge. Noctis sighs, standing up and casting his glance over the others. Prompto looks flushed but Ignis is eyeing Gladio very sternly, suspiciously almost. Noctis tucks the look away and follows Gladio into the woods.

As Noctis follows Gladio towards a clearing he begins to feel an itch of annoyance. Gladio might be an alpha but where does he get off ordering Noctis around? If it’s to protect the four of them that’s one thing. Gladio’s dazzling when he protects them. But if Gladio’s just being curt and bossy that’s something else. Noctis is his prince. Alpha or not Gladio doesn’t get to be curt with him. Noctis should hiss in his face and—

Gladio pivots in the chosen clearing, turning back to Noctis.

Noctis folds his arms.

“So are we gonna…?” Noctis waits, expectant.

Gladio sighs.

“What?” Noctis snaps.

Gladio grumbles something roughly, just under his breath.

“Huh?” Noctis tilts his head.

Gladio clears his throat; “will you scent me?”

Noctis jolts, a thought blossoming, and struggles for an adequate response.

“Why?” He challenges.

“You don’t seem to mind scenting Prompto,” Gladio huffs.

“Prompto asked for it.”

“Well now I’m asking for it.”

“If that’s what you wanted,” Noctis snorts, arms slackening, “you could’ve just said so, you big idiot.”

“Ignis eyes are burning a hole in my skull.” Gladio grumbles, arms crossed against his broad chest, scuffing his shoes in the dirt.

Noctis finds himself laughing, consumed by relief, and crosses the grass. He reaches up gently to cup Gladio’s cheeks and the alpha pulls him closer eagerly, hefting Noctis off his feet entirely until the Prince’s legs are wrapped around his hips and Gladio’s hands are secure under his thighs. Noctis buries his face in Gladio’s neck, smothering him with scent, rubbing up against him…

Gladio purrs deep in his chest and Noctis returns the sound with his own thrumming. 

Noctis scrapes his nails through Gladio’s hair feeling how tightly the alpha squishes him close. Gladio’s shoulders slacken noticeably but his hold on Noctis never faulters and Noctis never feels like his Shield is going to drop him.

“Feels so weird,” Gladio murmurs, not attempting to stop Noctis for a second.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” Gladio promises in a whisper, “feels fucking good.”

Noctis squeezes him closer, lingering, and they stand there a moment before, gingerly, Gladio sets him down.

“Sorry I yelled,” Gladio nuzzles his temple fondly while Noctis traces the stubble on his jaw.

“Just ask next time, moron.” Noctis grins.

“Next time,” Gladio promises.

Back at the caravan it takes mere seconds for Ignis and Prompto to catch whiff of the distinct shift in scents. Ignis stiffens noticeably and Noctis and Gladio lower their gazes but otherwise don’t acknowledge the shift. Ignis sighs tensely, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ignis is a little stiff all day. They have lunch at a Crow’s Nest and check off some minor hunts. In the afternoon they run a few errands, pull into a haven, and set up camp. Dinner is delicious. Noctis tries to say so but Ignis just hums. They play games for a little while on their phones but eventually Prompto and Gladio surrender to the tent for the night. Noctis lingers around the campfire with Ignis, unwilling to let his advisor sit up alone in the dark.

“Iggy…?” Noctis murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Yes Noct,” Ignis promises with a sigh. “I’m just being ridiculous. It’s nothing.”

“What’s wrong?” Noctis presses in a whisper.

“I…” Ignis snorts. “I have no qualms with your decisions. I suppose I’m just… I don’t know, jealous?”

“Jealous?” Noctis flickers with comprehension. “You know… I want to scent you, more than anything, but I didn’t know if you’d want…. Gladio and Prompto asked so…”

Ignis glances up from the fire.

“Might I ask too?”

Noctis nods keenly.

“Noctis,” Ignis grins softly, “would you scent me, darling?”

Noctis clamors out of the camping chair and climbs into Ignis’ lap. Ignis’ arms wrap around him instantly, squeezing him close, and burying himself Noctis nuzzles close. Ignis takes his scent willingly, warmly, stroking Noctis’ back like he wants him even closer. Noctis lingers there, fingers curled in Ignis’ shirt, and could almost drift off.

“Should we to bed?” Ignis offers, sounding decidedly calmer.

“Yeah,” Noctis nods into his neck. He expects to untangle, starts to shift, but Ignis’ arms curl under his thighs quicker than he can move away and standing the alpha bounces Noctis in his arms. Noctis laughs, clinging to Ignis, and let’s Ignis carry him to bed.

* * *

Noctis next heat is still a few weeks off but they fall into a steady, unspoken, routine. Noctis scents all three of them regularly. Its intimate, it means something, but they all seem to be waiting for Noctis to take the next step before they say or do anything themselves. Noctis hates the waiting. He still gets the most vivid dreams and he can barely suppress himself some mornings.

He wakes, one warm Tuesday, with the four of them sharing a hotel bed. They had two queen beds but eventually, in the night, Gladio got frustrated with the omegas constantly changing mattresses and just pushed both beds together. Noctis has had a vibrant dream about Gladio mounting Prompto and when he wakes squished between the two of them, their scents in his nose, he can barely focus. Swearing, hard, Noctis crawls out of bed and locks himself in the bathroom. This is ridiculous, he tells himself, something has to be done.

Noctis takes a piss, washes his face, and saunters back into the darkened hotel room. He climbs into bed. He pulls Prompto close. He starts kissing every freckle he can make out in the rising dawn. Prompto wriggles, a happy, confused, little noise escaping him as he groggily comes to his senses.

“Noct…” he laughs softly, fondly, clasping the hand Noctis already has pressed to his face.

“Prom,” Noctis whispers, “I need to know: do you wanna be a pack? Not just during the heats. Would you let Gladio and Ignis have you?”

“Huh?” Prompto starts to wake properly. “I—Yeah, of course, Noct.”

“No, not; _of course, Noct_.” He hisses, kissing Prompto more passionately. Prompto squirms, caught by his lips and tangled in a searing kiss. “Do _you_ want it? Would it make_ you_ happy?”

Prompto fumbles between Noctis kisses, Noctis’ hand tightening across his hip, Noctis teeth nipping his bottom lip.

“I- Oh my—yeah, _yes_.” Prompto manages breathlessly. “Yes, please. Noct I’d love—”

Ignis and Gladio are starting to shift in the bed, waking up. The omegas are not only twisting and making soft little noises; they’re starting to give off a smell. Prompto’s turned on. Noctis is turned on.

Ignis has the keenest nose. He wakes first. From behind Prompto he reaches over the blonde to grasp Noctis’ hip gently.

“Noct,” he whispers from over Prompto’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

It’s not accusatory but it is a little concerned.

“We need to talk.” Noctis announces, tucking Prompto’s head under his chin and clutching the blonde omega like a prize. “I want to talk. This is stupid.”

“Well…” Ignis sighs. “Why don’t you wake Gladio?”

Noctis leans back, one arm still tight around Prompto, the other hand reaching back to pat Gladio’s groggy cheek briskly.

“Hey, oi,” he whispers. “_Wake up._”

Gladio grumbles, arm tightening around Noctis’ waist, and fights the little slaps only as long as can reasonably be expected what with Noctis’ insistence. Gladio buries his face in Noctis’ hair, away from the swats to his cheeks, and grumbles;

“_What?_”

“Talk to us,” Noctis orders.

“It’s like fuck off o’clock, go back to sleep,” Gladio huffs.

Noctis rolls his hips, backside grinding against Gladio’s groin, and the alpha stiffens.

“Fucking—Yes, okay, I’m up Princess.” He grumbles, shuffling onto an elbow and looming over Noctis. “What are we awake for? Where is the fire?”

“I’m giving you all notice.” Noctis announces. “Tomorrow we’re a pack, in every sense of the word, and I’m scenting all of you unless I hear some objections now.”

“Noctis, you know we’ll—” Ignis begins.

“Shut up for a second, I’m not done,” Noctis snaps. “Things are crazy right now with the empire and shit. I don’t know what’s going to happen long term so don’t do this because I’m your prince or because of duty or whatever. If you tell me you’re ‘_willing_’ I’ll tell you to fuck right off. Tell me you _want_ it. Tell me you _love_ it.”

“That’s asking a lot, Princess,” Gladio murmurs somberly.

“I loved mating with you then, I love scenting you now, what I hate is pussyfooting around.” Noctis states clearly.

“Packs don’t form overnight, Noct,” Ignis tries to soften him, “usually groups don’t become _packs_ until they—” 

“Until they’re in love,” Noctis finishes. “I know that. I love you. I’ll tell you all about it if you want but if you tell me that’s misguided or I’m confused or—I don’t want to hear it. I know how I feel. I know what I want and its driving me crazy. I don’t want casual. I don’t want friendly. Decide what _you_ want and get back to me.”

The bed becomes very quiet. Everyone is thinking so hard the buzz is almost audible. Trust Noctis to throw a cat amongst the pigeons. Prompto bites his lip in the shadow of the light peaking in through the windows and Ignis seems to look over the omegas to Gladio. Noctis huffs and ducks his head down, tried and grumpy and terrified.

“Okay,” Gladio rumbles. “Tomorrow, right?”

“Ahuh,” Noctis grunts.

“I’m going to go for a run,” Gladio decides, easing from behind Noctis and wiping his face hard before he finds his feet on the carpet. 

“I might shower and go get breakfast,” Ignis agrees, untangling from behind Prompto and padding away gently.

Noctis is terrified. He talks a big game but he’s twenty. He’s terrified of rejection. He’s put his cards out on the table and now the people he cares about, the people he bared his soul to just now, can take it or leave it. He listens to the shower start, pipes groaning, he listens to Gladio leave the hotel room. He waits.

In his arms Prompto is stiff.

“Do you mean all that, Noct?” He whispers.

“Of course I do,” Noctis insists. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just—” Prompto gathers himself with a shaky breath. “All the stuff about loving us? That too?”

“Prom if it someone sneezed wrong in your general direction I would rip their jugular out.” Noctis answers. “If it would make you happy, I would humiliate myself in front of all of Eos. Yes, I love you. You’re my first friend. You’re.... I…” Noctis sighs. “I know it’s a lot.”

“It’s really nice…” Prompto whispers. “But, like, I’m a nobody. I can’t just be part of a royal pack, Noct. Gladio and Iggy, they’re nobles, and Princess Luna too but—”

“Insomnia is in ruins, I don’t even know if Lucius is going to exist in two years,” Noctis snaps. “What does it matter if I’m a prince? Prince of what? What matters is surviving. What matters is being happy while we can be. I want you, Prom. I don’t care who doesn’t like that. My father could come back from the grave to tell me he disapproves of me associating with someone of your station, or whatever, and I’d tell him to take a hike.” 

There’s a beat of silence, a long pause, and Noctis isn’t sure he’s saying the right thing. That feeling of uncertainty only redoubles when Prompto bursts into tears against his clavicle.

“Prom, Prom—” Noctis gathers him up, crushing him close. “Please don’t cry, I don’t—”

“You mean that? You promise?” Prompto hiccups.

“Absolutely,” Noctis nods into his hair. “I would move mountains for you.”

Prompto’s arms become steely around him, clinging, nails digging into his soft sleep shirt. Prompto buries his face, Prompto cries, but Prompto is suctioned so close to him Noctis can’t move an inch.

“Are you…? Prom, are you okay?” Noctis whispers.

“Yeah,” Prompto assure, wobbly, rubbing his face against Noctis chest. He sniffs; “scent me?”

Noctis dives down against Prompto’s neck and soaks him in protective scent. Prompto strokes through his hair, sniffling, as he moves and Noctis kisses his jaw firmly.

* * *

Prompto snuggles against him for the rest of the morning. Prompto doesn’t seem to want to leave his arms. Even when they both calm down enough to play on their phones they do so under the blankets tangled up in each other. Prompto will announce he’s cleared a level of his game, Noctis will kiss his nose, they’ll keep going.

Ignis makes breakfast. Gladio comes back from his run. They eat together in almost complete silence. It’s not a rough, cold, silence but it’s uncertain. Gladio and Ignis are thinking hard. Ignis keeps sighing over his coffee mug and Gladio keeps staring too hard at his bacon.

“You want to go take some pictures, Prom?” Noctis offers.

“Yeah,” Prompto nods keenly.

“You two go,” Ignis encourages. “I’ll clean up.”

Noctis knows its unwise to argue today so he takes Prompto’s hand and they wander off into Lestallum.

Prompto’s a little sheepish today but they take photos of the meteor from the look out and Prompto takes people watching shots through the city. Noctis consents to smiling for one or two shots but Prompto doesn’t test his compliance further.

They hold hands as they walk. They smell likes omegas of course but Noctis’ scent has an edge to it and smothered in it like he is there’s no doubt Prompto belongs to someone. Alphas give them this look, occasionally wander a little closer under a façade of casualness in the marketplace, but most of them get a whiff of Noctis’ strong scent and back right off. They obviously don’t understand the scent is Noctis’ core scent. They just seem to think Noctis and Prompto belong to a big ‘_fuck off_’ alpha of some description and for most alphas looking to avoid trouble that’s enough. Still Noctis glares them down when they walk a little too close and wishes, vaguely, that Gladio or Ignis were around to assert themselves.

When they make it back to the hotel room Ignis is doing some book keeping, checking their expenses in his little ledger, but Gladio is off somewhere.

“Where’s Gladio?” Noctis asks, trying to sound casual.

“He didn’t say what his plans were but he assured me he’d be back for dinner,” Ignis answers. 

Prompto glances to Noctis, looks thoughtful, and sighing Noctis whips out his phone. Should he text Gladio? He promised the alpha time to think but… it feels weird without Gladio. He frets. Noctis might be big and scary on some instinctual level but he’s still an omega. He still wants his big scary Shield around to protect him. Especially when he’s feeling vulnerable. Gladio doesn’t necessarily have to touch him or talk to him just being around is enough.

Noctis decides against texting. He lingers on his phone for a moment, Prompto wavering behind him unsure if he should sit or stand, and Noctis turns his attention to Ignis. Ignis is a smaller alpha but he’s still sizeable and strong and he smells right and Noctis just wants to ask for something, for some reassurance, but he can’t fathom the words. It feels inappropriate to push his luck today.

Ignis glances up at him, feeling the weight of his stare, and Noctis ducks his eyes away quickly.

“I was considering curling up on the couch,” Ignis confesses. “It looks to be a slow day.”

“Right,” Noctis grunts.

“Would you two like to keep me company?” Ignis offers the metaphorical olive branch and Prompto presses up against Noctis’ back waiting for some kind of guidance.

Noctis just nods dumbly.

Ignis collapses on the couch a moment later, news chattering, and propping his feet up on the coffee table beckons the omegas down. Prompto nuzzles against one side, Noctis tucks against the other, and Ignis patiently wraps his arms around their shoulders. They sit there, languishing in the afternoon heat, just quietly listening and watching or at least pretending to pay the TV any heed at all. Noctis certainly isn’t paying any attention to the screen. When Ignis squeezes Prompto, administering a soothing kiss to his forehead, Prompto sags like a ragdoll. When Ignis turns the other way, squeezing and kissing Noctis, Noctis’ eyes fall shut. He’s almost at peace here. Ignis is here, Prompto is here, but it’s still an incomplete feeling. 

They stay there, in silence, for a very long time. Ignis’ thumb rubs into Noctis’ arm, Ignis’ chest expands and contracts under Noctis’ grip, and Prompto’s calloused little fingers lace through Noctis’ on the meeting ground of Ignis’ stomach.

Noctis tries to relax but his mind keeps playing, over and over; where’s Gladio?

As the sun starts to set Ignis, patient Ignis, starts to stir under the fretful omegas he’s corralled. Ignis, always a rock, pressed his nose into Noctis’ hair.

“How about I start on dinner?” He offers.

“Yeah,” Noctis presses into him softly.

“Should we text Gladio?” Prompto frets.

“He’ll come back when he’s ready.” Ignis promises. “You two stay here. I’ll cook.”

Ignis arranges them against each other, himself extracted, and tucking them under a blanket switches on the light in the kitchen and drifts out of sight. Ignis is still nearby. They are still safe. Still….

Where’s Gladio?

Noctis feels like he has a toothache. He just can’t settle.

* * *

After dinner they linger around the couch. Normally they’d play a game, chatter, but everything’s too tense so Ignis reads one of Gladio’s trashy romance novels, Prompto plays on his phone and Noctis leans out the window under the guise of people watching. He hopes he’ll spot Gladio coming home but eventually it turns dark and cold and Ignis beckons him to close the window and come back. 

Noctis sprawls on his stomach on the couch, chin in hand, scrolling his phone. The world’s a pretty scary place. Since Insomnia fell lots of users on his favorite sites aren’t posting at all or if they are they’re understandably rattled. A few lost souls, a virtual skeleton crew, keep his feed refreshing with a slow trickle of memes and fandom chatter. It’s like watching a comedian on a sinking ship trying to keep the passengers calm.

Gladio comes home around ten.

They all stiffen when the door unlocks, just cautious, but Prompto noticeably relaxes for half a second when he spots Gladio’s big jacketed shoulders slipping in and relocking the door.

Noctis flutters, somewhere between happy and—

Noctis sniffs.

Ignis is a rod of tension on the other side of the couch and when Gladio hears Noctis inspecting the air his hackles go up instantly.

Noctis sees red.

Gladio doesn’t just smell like someone else.

Gladio smells like a whole lot of other people. Other omegas. Other alphas.

Gladio pivots around, starting to shrug off his jacket, he motions to open his mouth, jaw tense, but Noctis cuts him off.

“You smell like a brothel.” Noctis voice is cold and hard. It has a razor edge.

Gladio winces and Prompto scampers off the coffee table to tuck behind Ignis.

“Where were you?” Noctis demands. He knows it’s not exactly his business but he feels so stupid for missing him now. Angry. So angry.

“You were right with the first guess.” Gladio grunts, throwing his jacket over their stacked luggage.

Ignis sighs tensely, sounds like he wants to swear.

“You think you’re funny?” Noctis snaps pushing himself up on his arms.

“Call it a bachelor party,” Gladio maintains, cautiously coming to present himself to Noctis, one hip cocked. He sounds dry, half mocking, but he doesn’t look pleased with himself. He looks tired and sick and mournful.

“_Fuck you!_” Noctis hisses.

Noctis’ voice, almost distraught and every bit furious, makes all their hairs stand on end. Omega or not Noctis can put them all on notice.

“Why do you think this is funny?” Noctis snaps, voice breaking with the tension of his own dismay. He’s hurting.

“I just…” Gladio holds his hands up placatingly. “I just had to check.”

“Check_ what?_” Noctis roars.

“I just… I wanted to see if I’d feel _something_…” He murmurs, slumping, pawing the back of his neck.

Ignis sighs again like he expected this.

“Did you?” Noctis laughs, mean and misty eyed. “Did you _feel something_ amongst all that cock and pussy?”

“Not a damn thing,” Gladio admits quietly.

Noctis takes a taunt breath trying to decide what to scream at him next. He’s _so infuriating_.

“I feel a whole lot more with you,” Gladio continues, not quite making eye contact. “I feel a whole lot more with Iggy and Prom and you than any of those jokers. Prettier, bigger, smaller, it didn’t matter. I just… I had to check.”

Noctis takes another breath, trying to puff himself up, but he slumps forward on the exhale burying his face in the couch and wracking his shoulders with sobs.

He knows he’s overwrought but today has been hard and he’s put himself out a lot today.

Noctis is usually pretty laid back but when he feels things; _he_ _feels them_.

Gladio’s big, gruff, hand rests on the back of his head, thumb working into the hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs tightly.

“Go shower,” Noctis whips his head up to snap. “Go scrub all that off. _Now._”

Gladio’s thumb wipes a tear off his cheek, Noctis sniffs petulantly, and nodding the Shield shuffles into the bathroom.

Noctis buries his face back into the couch cushion and lets out a wail.

He’ll be okay, he’ll be okay, he just needs a minute.

Gladio, Ignis, Prompto… they’re not just options or consorts or whatever. They’re his pack and he loves them and the mere notion of them kissing someone else drives him wild with jealousy. Noctis hates it. Hates how strong the feeling is in his gut too. He was worried Gladio was thinking there was someone else he wanted more and it hurts to think Gladio was curled up with other people. It’s a worse case scenario for today. It doesn’t mean Noctis loves him any less. It just_ hurts_.

Ignis’ hand settles on his back, rubbing heavy circles, and Noctis continues to hiccup and moan angrily through his tears. He feels miserable.

Ignis doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask anything of him, just lets him cry. Ignis always knows when he needs a good cry. He’s seen Gladio and Noctis fight ten thousand times. He always knows how to handle them.

Prompto climbs onto a cushion by Noctis’ feet and reaches to toy with the hem of his shirt at the small of his back.

“He came home,” Prompto whispers. “He… Everyone’s gotta cope differently with all this. Things have been big and dark lately…”

Noctis’ shoulders shake into the musty old fabric and he tries to breathe. He promised them time to think and this is a big decision. Gladio needed to be sure. Whatever it takes to be sure well…

Noctis doesn’t have to like it.

But it doesn’t mean he loves Gladio any less.

He doesn’t even think it means Gladio loves him any less.

Gladio comes out of the shower in his boxers looking sheepish and tired. Noctis opens his arms, expression still petulant and short tempered, but Gladio all but throws himself into his arms. Gladio hefts him into his lap and Noctis scents him and scents him and scents him till he can barely pick up Gladio’s natural musk let alone anyone else’s.

They sit there a moment, Noctis lathering the alpha in his scent, and Gladio strokes his hair and everything is quiet.

“So… tomorrow…?” Prompto voices cautiously.

“Well….” Ignis sighs when Noctis doesn’t raise his head. “Noctis wanted objections but I haven’t heard any. Have you?”

“Nah,” Gladio agrees. “No complaints here. You?”

“Nope!” Prompto chirps breathlessly.

“I’ve thought about it.” Ignis hums. “It could be dangerous but we could die any second so…. I suppose it’s all about perspective.”

“You’re not…?” Prompto hesitates but Ignis must encourage him because Prompto plucks up the courage to ask; “I know Noct isn’t concerned that I’m a commoner but—”

“We’ll deal with that when it becomes an issue,” Ignis placates calmly.

“Honestly Prom, if we get the throne back, you’re going to have so many fucking medals Noct will probably have justification to ennoble you.” Gladio snorts, still rubbing Noctis’ back soothingly while he cradles the fussy omega.

Prompto laughs weakly but there’s some genuine relief in it.

Noctis, finally, lifts his head from where it’s been marinating pressed into Gladio’s neck.

“I’m tired.” He grumbles.

“Cause you’ve done so much today,” Gladio teases.

“Crying really takes it out of me,” Noctis shoots back warningly and Gladio immediately backs off.

“Let’s to bed.” Ignis suggests. “Tomorrow’s a new day, full of changes too apparently, so we ought to be well rested to face it.”

“Should we split up the mega bed?” Prompto supposes as he shuffles to his feet.

“No,” Noctis announces petulantly. “Mega bed stays.”

“Yes Sir!” Prompto salutes, snatching up Noctis’ hand and dragging him out of Gladio’s lap towards their luggage so they can find pjs.

* * *

In the morning Noctis notes they’ve all tossed about. Prompto and Noctis are still snuggled in between the alphas but Noctis is on his back. To one side Prompto is snuggling into Gladio’s sleeping chest and to the other Ignis curls against him protectively.

Noctis lays there in silence, listening to the breathing of _his pack_.

No one complained, no one protested, so….

They’re a pack now.

That means all sorts of things and it’s kind of terrifying in its own right but Noctis is also intimately satisfied. They’re all close. They all smell like him. They’re all safe and warm and restful… it’s nice. Noctis could get used to this bone soaking feeling of being close to people he loves and allowed to do something about it.

Noctis takes a deep breath and falls back asleep for a little while. When he wakes Ignis is already up preparing breakfast. Prompto is in the shower. Gladio is lacing up his boots. He’s the last one to rise, yet again, but it suits him that way.

Noctis slips out of bed, hiking up his shirt and scratching his side, stumbling into Gladio’s lap. Gladio gets scented, he doesn’t protest, but he does stiffen somewhat at the good morning kiss Noctis burns into his mouth. He takes a second to catch on but, gripping Noctis’ hips tight, he tries to pull the prince down for a second mouthful. Noctis shoves a hand in his face, pushes him away, and climbs out of his lap before he can be caught.

Ignis is next. Noctis tugs his sleeve. Ignis tells him to wait a moment. Noctis huffs and tugs Ignis around. Ignis is about to complain when Noctis pushes up on his toes to scent him and then, all the same, kiss him. Ignis takes the kiss with considerably more grace pushing back down into Noctis almost immediately. Ignis kisses like he wants to spend the next twenty years kissing but Noctis pecks his nose and pulls away.

“Tease!” Gladio hollers from the couch.

“Incorrigible.” Ignis chuckles in agreement.

Stalking through the hotel room Noctis barges into the bathroom next.

“Almost done! Five more!” Prompto squeaks from behind the shower curtain.

Noctis pulls his shirt off, shucks his boxers and soaks up the squeal Prompto makes as he climbs into the shower.

“_Noct!_” Prompto whines. “Can’t a guy have five—?”

Noctis pulls him into a kiss and that’s all it takes to make Prompto melt.

Prompto has washed his hair and is trying to wash the grime off his body but Noctis is insistent on scenting him in the running water and, flustered, Prompto eventually surrenders to letting Noctis control the loofa. He swipes up the shampoo instead and starts lathering his Prince’s hair. Noctis throws his head back to rinse and shoves it back under Prompto’s hands for the conditioner. Prompto tries to get out once, on the basis of being clean and pruned, but Noctis makes him stay till they’re both clean and he’s satisfied.

“Did you use all the hot water?” Ignis asks knowingly as they sit at the kitchen table.

Prompto looks to Noctis for rescue.

Noctis bites into his toast.

Noctis regrets nothing.

Ignis sighs, head shaking, but Gladio laughs.

Something feels different between them._ Better_. They’ve always been comfortable but an invisible wall has come down. It was a big wall but until recently Noctis didn’t even notice it. Now they can kiss each other something is tangibly different. They’re still a little uncertain, still figuring it out, but the snowball effect is spiraling them further and further away from professionalism and simple friendship.

Noctis can see the wall now. That subtle wall, that friendship boundary line or propriety, and he’s going to take a sledgehammer to the remains.

“I think, if I don’t have any blockers that work, Prompto should come off his.” Noctis announces around a mouthful.

Prompto turns his orange juice into a projectile.

“Not exactly eloquent Prompto,” Ignis hands the apologizing omega a napkin and starts moping at the spray on the table, “but it gets the point across.”

“If you and Prompto both went into heat we’d be down eight days a quarter.” Gladio counters around his toast, completely unphased by the spit take.

“I just feel selfish being the only omega who gets cared for in heat.” Noctis counters.

“That’s sweet,” Gladio scoffs, “but you just wanna watch us rail Prompto.”

“For the record; I’m fine.” Prompto assures hurriedly. “Noct doesn’t have a choice. We don’t have anything to stop his heats but it’d be way crazy if I went off my blockers too cause like—"

“Heats sync up,” Noctis interjects into Prompto’s frantic rant.

“After several months,” Ignis counters sternly. “If at all.”

“Lads, gents,” Gladio sighs, hands up placatingly. “Let’s settle this the easy way.”

“Oh?” Noctis challenges.

“Prompto doesn’t have to be in heat to get railed.” Gladio grins wolfishly, making a matching expression explode across Noctis’ face.

“Whoa! _Whoa!_” Prompto wails. “Back up!”

“No one is railing Prompto without his express consent,” Ignis thrusts two warning index fingers out accusingly at Gladio and Noctis.

“You don’t wanna get railed Prom?” Noctis pivots on the blonde.

“I-I—” Prompto buries his red face in his hands. “_OhmygodIdon’tknow!_ _Dude!_”

“Sorry, was that Lucian or Accordan?” Gladio teases, tilting his head towards Prompto. “You went a little fast there, Blondie. Try again, go on, use your big boy words.”

“Oh stop teasing him,” Ignis huffs.

“I-I-I just…” Prompto takes a deep breath very quickly and throws his hands into his lap, back stiff as a board. “I-I don’t want anyone to do anything they don’t wanna—”

“I loved fucking you, Prom,” Noctis purrs. “I’d do it a million times if you let me.”

“Only ate you out but you taste sweet and your ass is tight.” Gladio shrugs.

“That’s Amicitia for he’d lay you down in a second.” Noctis assures.

Prompto glances frantically between Gladio and Noctis, turning finally upon Ignis as if looking for a lifeline, stuttering.

“For the record,” Ignis sighs, “I would love to take care of you, Prompto. It wouldn’t be an effort or a chore if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Prompto buries his face back into his hands and makes a noise, high pitched and fumbling, and dropping his hands shrugs;

“That’d be nice? Yes? Please and thank you?” He’s beet red.

Gladio and Noctis high five over the table.

“We have to check out of the hotel.” Ignis reminds them. “But when we camp tonight—”

“We can knot Prompto?” Noctis beams.

“Yes, we can knot Prompto.” Ignis moans exasperatedly. “Now for goodness sake scrape off your plates and pack up. We have to get moving.”

“Sure Specs,” Gladio sings, pushing up and fishing up the forgotten plates in one swoop.

Prompto grabs Noctis and hauling him close buries his face in Noctis’ laughing chest.

* * *

The day is different somehow. Tangibly so. Ignis insists they pick up some supplies before heading back out into the wilds and that means dropping by the markets. Noctis stays close to Ignis, letting his advisor run the resupply operation, and watches as a few feet back Gladio teases Prompto within an inch of his life. Gladio keeps tugging on little bits of his hair and Prompto keeps swatting him away breathlessly. Gladio is smirking, Prompto is laughing despite himself, and they’re radiating easy going happy vibes. It’s perfect. Noctis smiles distantly lingering near a spice counter with Ignis.

There’s a wolf whistle across the row. Noctis glances, attention drawn, and a sharp toothed alpha who likely can’t smell him at this distance with all the distractions makes greedy eyes at him, eyebrows wiggling. Noctis huffs, mildly insulted, and pivots back around. When the alpha calls out to him Noctis realizes that while he doesn’t speak perfect Tenbraesian he recognizes lewdness a mile off. Noctis whips back around, ready to flip the man his middle finger, but Ignis slips his arm around his waist and turns him back around gently.

“Ignore him,” Ignis prompts, “we shouldn’t draw attention with a scene.”

“He started it,” Noctis growls, all two thousand years of royal omega instincts intimately offended. How dare some dirty common alpha make lewd gestures at him?

“I know darling,” Ignis assures pulling him closer by his hips and butting their noses together as he whispers the promise; “if he comes closer than ten feet he’ll very quickly lose a lot more than his nerve.”

Noctis smiles wryly. Gladio might be bigger but he knows better than to bet against Ignis in a fight. Leaning into his alpha Noctis rests his head on his shoulder patiently while Ignis secures the last few purchases at the stall. When they’re done Noctis is given a bag and Ignis takes his other hand, lacing their fingers, leading him on. Prompto and Gladio follow behind, still laughing and toying with each other like they’ve been playing these games for years. Honestly, its kind of surprising how easy the whole thing comes to all of them.

Ignis takes the driver seat when they reach the regalia and Noctis gets to watch, with a rapt smirk, how deeply Prompto blushes when Ignis lays a lazy hand on his thigh. Prompto traces Ignis’ gloved knuckles, quietly entranced, and Ignis asserts himself in this quietly powerful way. There are alphas out there who could learn a lot from Ignis.

Gladio seems not to be paying any attention until Noctis tries to heft himself up to sit on the back of the car. Ignis turns onto the highway, Noctis unbuckles his seat belt, and the Prince is halfway up when Gladio yanks him down into his seat.

“Gladio!” Noctis huffs.

“Thank you,” Ignis murmurs gratefully in the front seat, eyes still locked on the road.

“You’re going to fall out of the car one day.” Gladio grunts.

“You didn’t care yesterday!” Noctis pouts.

“Yesterday you weren’t my omega. Different rules.”

“So if I’m _just_ your Prince it’s fine but if I’m your omega it’s different?” Noctis snorts.

“Totally,” Gladio answers shamelessly, “prince? Would give my life to defend you, sure, but I have little rank to assert. My omega? Maybe carrying my young? Oh I’ve got plenty of authority to assert to get your ass back into that seat.”

Noctis can’t help the blush that explodes across his face.

Gladio laughs wickedly.

Noctis shoves him hard, slapping his shoulder, and swearing to himself yanks his seatbelt back on.

“That’s a totally legit question though,” Prompto speaks up carefully, when Noctis is done cussing Gladio out. “We’re like… we’re a pack, right?”

“Yes Prompto,” Ignis answers, “we’re a pack. Why?”

“Well, like…” Prompto wavers. “Packs discuss if they want kids and stuff, right…?”

“I don’t think children are on the cards for now,” Ignis laughs patiently, squeezing Prompto’s fingers. “It’s something well worth discussing, darling, but perhaps when we’ve restored the Lucian throne and we’re not wanted men. Besides, any discussion of impregnating Noctis has several layers of complication.”

“Keep talking Iggy,” Gladio encourages, “Noctis is going to bust a vein back here.”

“You started it!” Noctis snaps, flustered despite himself. 

“It is important,” Ignis reiterates, “Prompto doesn’t make a bad point and Gladio, for all his lack of tact, can’t really help the natural inclination to want to breed his omegas, can he?”

“Can _you?_” Noctis shoots back petulantly.

“It is a struggle, darling.” Ignis answers fearlessly.

“Ha!” Gladio cackles. “Now they’re both blushing!”

“You’re awful!” Noctis fumbles. He was expecting a lot of things. He was not expecting the alphas to turn the tables on him. He’s pack leader, yes, but looks like the alphas still have a few tricks up their sleeves. Noctis groans, cupping his cheeks, feeling the burning blush and Gladio just chuckles smugly beside him as he pulls out his book.

This is...

Yeah, this is good. 


End file.
